Small and Mighty
by AllyinthekeyofX
Summary: While on a case, Mulder discovers Scully has packed more than a toothbrush and a change of clothes!


SMALL AND MIGHTY

BY

AllyinthekeyofX

1/1

would never have discovered Scully's guilty little secret if it weren't for the headache that had been niggling me all day and which, by the time we got back to the motel, had increased in ferocity just enough for me to require a couple of pills to temper it.

I had suggested to Scully that sex might be in order – strictly for medicinal purposes you understand – and I was more than a little disappointed that her adherence to the Hippocratic oath didn't actually extend to breaking the 'no sex while on a case' rule she had rigidly imposed some weeks ago. I attempted to plead my case, citing studies that had produced clear and irrefutable proof of endorphin release masking the symptoms of pain but she had crossed her arms firmly over her glorious breasts, blue eyes sparkling with amusement as she inclined her head to the brown leather overnight bag she had placed in the corner of the room the day before.

"I'm going to take a shower. Advil are in the bag."

And it's not like I purposely rummaged in that bag a little to see if she had packed any of that nice lingerie that has suddenly started showing up under those tailored suits she wears and which sometimes, if I'm angled just right, I catch a glimpse of when she accidentally forgets to fasten all her shirt buttons. Sadly, I didn't find anything even remotely lingerie-like but a small black velvet pouch nestling against the neatly folded contents caught my eye.

And _I know_ I shouldn't have glanced furtively over my shoulder even though by the sounds being emitted from the small bathroom I knew she was still in the shower, before removing the pouch and slowly pulling at the gold drawstring to reveal its contents.

I'm an investigator, right?

I was merely investigating.

And there it was; six or so inches of shiny silver, smooth and satiny to the touch from the slender, slightly angled rounded tip right down to the softly ridged shaft. So it wasn't the biggest vibrator I've ever seen in my life – and thanks to my erstwhile porn collection I have certainly seen a few – but it was definitely the prettiest, made all the prettier given the fact I had no trouble at all envisaging Scully holding it in that tiny little hand of hers.

My cock clearly had no trouble either because it went from mildly interested to full-on attentive in around 0.2 seconds and I swear I felt my brain empty of blood as it rushed headlong to my groin on the back of the delicious visual it had conjured up of my partner biting her bottom lip to prevent herself from crying out as she slid the toy through her swollen folds, circling her clit, head thrown back, pleasuring herself to the point of orgasm before slipping it inside herself to vibrate against her slick, tight walls that clenched and pulsed around it.

For a brief moment I actually considered stripping off my clothes and joining Scully in the shower with her small vibrating friend which, looking at it nestled incongruously in my palm, I was pretty sure was the fully water resistant version that dreams are made of. But while subtlety isn't always my strong point, I ruefully have to concede that on-case shower fucking probably sits pretty high on my partner's list of verboten activities. So instead I retreat to my own room and attempt to breathe away the roaring erection that is currently tenting the front of my expensive dress pants and totally ruining the line.

Eventually though I have to face reality and that the only real solution to the problem is to go and immerse myself in a cold shower although I could of course just quietly jerk-off in there because God knows after working with Scully for seven years I have become a fucking expert at hiding my obvious desire for her under cover of running water, but I'm not quite as young as I was and frankly, if what I have in mind comes to fruition I don't want my slightly temperamental refraction time to ruin the moment. It's either that or allow a mental resurgence of the tainted memory I have of walking in to the Gunmen's lair one memorable day to find Frohike in all his naked glory engaged in the four finger shuffle while watching a grainy pirate porn flick which featured a small red-headed bimbo dressed in a white coat doing imaginative things to her lab assistant using a large conical flask that I'm pretty sure had never seen the inside of a chemistry set. Words were not required on my part because I think the look I shot him was enough and while we never spoke of it again, the incident is burned in to my memory for all eternity and has proved an invaluable resource for slamming a halt on my libido faster than Scully can debunk one of my theories.

The cold water alone though has the desired effect and I manage to crank the heat up a touch towards the end just so I don't come down with a literal case of blue balls to match the rest of me.

I towel off roughly and throw on a pair of flannel pyjama pants that I only packed because I know Scully likes them. In fact it's kind of ironic that I now wear more clothing in bed than I ever have before, preferring for years to either sleep completely au naturale or, as a concession to modesty when we were on a case, in a pair of boxer briefs. But that's okay. I am more than happy to make a concession and change my sleeping attire to suit Scully, not least because even as I wear more, she has taken to gradually wearing less. She has slowly swopped flannel for soft stretchy cotton edged with lace and the shapeless drab garments that seemed like she had stolen them from one of her brothers have been replaced with satin shorts and feather light camisoles in an array of pastel colours that sit perfectly against her beautiful skin.

I'm unsurprised to see her sitting cross legged atop my bed when I finally step back in to the room. Because even when we are on cases we have a night time ritual that involves at least a couple of hours winding down from whatever rigours the day has thrown at us. Mostly we watch TV and despite the no sex rule, Scully usually ends up pressed against me as I wrap an arm around her back to draw her close. Sometimes there is cuddling. Very occasionally, if I'm extraordinarily lucky there might even be kissing involved but pretty much anything below the neck is off limits and as frustrating as it is for me, I respect her far too much to overstep the boundaries she has imposed on us even for reasons best known to her.

But the discovery of that small silver cylinder has me both intrigued and feeling more than a little horny and I think it might be time to push the envelope a little just to see where it takes me.

She looks up and smiles at me as I get closer and I don't know whether it's my libido talking but she looks fucking gorgeous tonight, fresh from the shower, her hair is less tamed than it usually is and even though it is shorter than I've ever known her wear it, it refuses to stay where she has tucked it behind her ears and her face is framed with delicate tendrils that colour match almost exactly the smattering of freckles across her perfectly sculptured nose that have been brought out by the California sunshine. She is wearing a plain cotton jersey vest and matching shorts that are edged in lace and while not perhaps the most feminine outfit she has worn in recent times, the way the stretchy material clings to her every curve is like sweet visual poetry to my hungry eyes.

Because I never get tired of looking at her.

Ever.

In fact I think she would probably look gorgeous to me if she were wearing a potato sack to bed.

"Did you find the Advil?"

And just for a second I feel a prickle of unease that she might actually be being ironic and that my furtive rummage amongst her personal effects has not gone unnoticed; but all I see on her face is concern – a concern born from all the years I have failed to take adequate care of my own state of health and in fact, I think if she hadn't been partnered with me when she was, I would most likely be dead by now.

So I just nod as I climb on to the bed and crawl up the slightly threadbare comforter until I am level with her, expecting and subsequently receiving the touch of her palm against my forehead to check I don't have a fever. But in all honesty the headache has all but disappeared so I catch her hand in mine and turn it upwards so I am able to kiss it lightly.

"I'm fine really" I assure her in response to the unspoken question that burns in her eyes, allowing her to scrutinise me for just a few seconds before I twist my body slightly to the side, pulling her to rest against me as I drop my lips to the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of freshly showered Scully that is a heady mixture of lightly fragranced shampoo and recently laundered clothing. I could drown in the scent of her because it represents so many things to me. Safety, security, respect, protection are all at the forefront and when we make love and the heady aroma of her arousal is added to the mix it pretty much renders me incapable of rational thought.

Right now though, I'm still fully in control of my faculties and firing on all mental cylinders as I begin tracing small circles along the exposed skin of her neck and down along the delicate ridge of her clavicles, distracting her slightly from the fact I am quietly reaching behind me with my free hand, sliding it beneath the edge of the pillow where earlier I had stashed the vibrator, feeling my cock twitch slightly beneath the plaid flannel that shrouds it as my fingers make contact with the smooth metal.

"Scully?"

She inclines her head slightly but doesn't turn fully and I smile lazily because it makes my next action much easier than I hoped it would be.

"Mmmmm? What is it?"

She sounds relaxed, the gentle touch of my fingers against her skin lulling her just as it always does because by necessity we have had to find a way to touch each other without crossing the line from simple caressing to something much deeper.

I kiss my way down the side of her head, breathing softly against the shell of her ear as my voice drops to a whisper.

"I found something else when I was looking for the Advil..."

And before she can respond I manipulate the vibrator between my fingers and the palm of my hand so I can twist the base, switching on the small motor that resides inside it and which fills the air surrounding us with a quiet hum sending a pleasant tingle through my hand, a hand I waste no time in moving toward her so I can lay the metal shaft held within against the small of her back.

Her response is immediate, just as I knew it would be and she jerks herself away from me and off the bed just as I knew she would. The small strangled squeak she emits though is an added bonus, especially since it's a sound I have never heard her make before now and after months of intimacy with this woman I pretty much thought I'd heard every sound she had in her arsenal.

Without even looking at her I know that hot colour has flooded her face and when she spins around to confront me it's all I can do to not laugh out loud at her expression that is hovering somewhere between anger, extreme embarrassment and horror at what I am holding before her.

Not that she should be embarrassed of course, especially given the fact that I spent years imagining exactly how my partner might find ways to release the sexual tension that for the longest time existed unanswered between us and pretty I much visualised every scenario that it was possible to conjure up in my Scully-centred mind.

And besides which, for all her apparent daily attempts to be viewed as a professional first and a woman second, she _is_ a woman; very much so in fact and I have happily discovered over the past few months that beneath those staid and professional tailored suits there beats the heart of a tigress.

"You went through my things?"

The accusation in her voice though is half-hearted at best and I know her well enough to know that she isn't really angry at me, well not too angry at any rate.

"I was looking for pain pills remember?"

"Did you find them?"

I grin and twist the controls again to quiet the motor. No sense wasting the batteries.

"No. I found this instead and since I didn't want to disturb any Peruvian love eggs you might have hidden in there too I thought I'd better quit while I was ahead..."

And then I see it – a slight quirk at the corner of her mouth as she unsuccessfully tries to hide the fact that she is trying not to laugh.

"Peruvian love eggs Mulder?"

"Yeah. I've heard they're the next big thing for female FBI Agents who impose sex bans on their significant others while hiding travel-sized love toys in their luggage...so what gives Scully? You holding out on me or what?"

I watch her redden again as she crosses her arms beneath her breasts, a subconscious act of protection because she knows she's been busted. And I wait for her to rationalise just as I hoped she would.

"Sexual acts between two consenting adults in an established relationship and solitary masturbation are wholly different things Mulder."

I raise my eyes skywards. Thank you Jesus.

"So..." I waggle the aforementioned love toy at her which I am now resting between two fingers like Groucho Marks holding his cigar and raise my eyebrows "You wouldn't consider using this to be in any way on the same level of us getting down and dirty naked pretzel style? That this in no way comes close to breaking your self-imposed 'no sex while on the government dime' rule?"

Now, Scully is nobody's fool but she is just flustered enough at this point to not really process the meaning of my carefully chosen words.

"No it doesn't. Not even close."

And I don't feel even the slightest bit guilty at the way she fell so easily in to my trap as I smile lasciviously across at her from my position on the bed, turning the vibrator back on with one hand as I beckon her slowly with my other.

"Get your ass over here Scully."

Continued part 2


End file.
